April 2011
I begin April, 2011, by adding an additional $300 of Intel to my meager stock holdings. As mentioned earlier, I already had an Intel account with about five shares leftover from back in the day. Now I just needed a $300 jolt to my holdings to get me over a hump. What hump, you ask? The ages 60-62 hump. Those are the years my collection of IRA, savings bonds and stocks will be supporting me. Things will change, stocks will rise and fall, and inflation will have its say, but I've got 9 1/2 years to see this little bucket of money grow from where it sits today. The accomplishment is that if I turned 60 today, I could go those next 24 months at $20 per day. Any growth over the next 9 1/2 years is all gravy. And gravy is good. Intel is sitting fairly low these days, and it still looks like a strong company with a 3% dividend. And somebody's going to have to be the power behind the surge of newfangled tablets and gizmos that are infiltrating the masses these days. I believe Intel is poised to claim that spot. I'm giving them another shot. Well, $300, anyway. Now that the mark has been hit for age 60-62 finances, my focus goes to the years 55-60. The 401k Years, as we say in the Roll-O-Rooter biz. I think I might have mentioned somewhere earlier, these five years will be financed by my 401k and maybe 1/4 of what I am stashing in the bank. I'm not too far off from that hump, either. If I turned 55 today, I'd only have about $16.50 per day for those five years. So it looks pretty good that I'll get to my $20 shortly, and with some luck, all of it could even come from 401k funds - nothing taken from the bank stash. Wouldn't that be sweet. As long as the market doesn't take a catastrophic plunge and ruin everybody. For that reason, I'll probably do a lot of major shifting of my 401k investment allocations as I approach the $20 goal. Shifting and praying. Shift to a very conservative mix of stocks and bonds, and pray I outrun inflation. I don't need huge gains, I need to prevent huge losses. The Dream Sale Price on the house is $312,267.58 as of this writing. In other words, that's all I need in the whole world to be financially ready to hit the road. And that's how the finances are playing out at the moment. * * * I just wanted to put this on here so I knew there was a place where I could always go to see it. It inspires me as only few things can. Miles Davis' muted trumpet. Gino Vannelli's orchestral-fusion arrangements. A Garrison Keillor monologue. My cat, Monk, when he's sleeping. Day-long rain. I love this painting, and yeah, I get that a lot of people don't see what the fuss is. To me, it is absolutely magnificent. One: Number 31, 1950 by Jackson Pollock  * * * I gave my official "I'm leaving the YMCA" notice this week.  Mixed feelings on that, because that place and those customers are important to me, my social world, my storytelling, and my sanity. But it's time. They'll start phasing me out as soon as they can, and then I'll have my Saturdays to get the house and the truck pulled together. I'm sure I'll still be in the Y, subbing for that odd shift somebody needs off (like last night), but I'm going to miss my Regulars. I'll miss David, such an unassuming and funny man that I never thought what he might be in real life. He's a cardioligist. When I learned that, it reminded me how people can surprise you if you give them the chance, and if I ever have a ticker problem, I want him! People like Megan, who I adore, but she isn't into guys, but she thought I was into her, but it's not like that, but my admiration upset her and she pulled away, but she talks to me again now, and all is well. Debbie and Dave, who always have something funny to say, and laugh at my jokes, and sometimes bring me donuts from Tony's. There are the beauties like Kate - stunning in simplicity, the favorite of all the guys at the Y - Sonia who makes our legs weak and our vision blurry, and women like Claire, who we just watch in silence. And there's Noel. [sigh] [and that's all I'm going to say] Little Ismail and his sister, who I have seen grow up over the past 3 1/2 years. In a world of South African and Somali children who only want to lie and cheat and steal when they walk in our doors, these two kids never let me down with their honesty and smiles. Walter, Richard, Susan, Ken, Judy, Carol & John, Cory (the funniest guy in Portland), the yoga ladies, the early risers and the late-comers...even Mr. Sobieski - a legitimate wingnut, who was finally removed by popular request - the parade of faces and laughs and just good people. And that's not even mentioning the staff, most of 'em twenty-something kids just looking for a decent job that didn't involve retail or manual labor. And most of 'em good-looking, honest people who found themselves ready to move on after a year or two. And of course, I'll miss Jeff. My buddy, Jeff.  Jeff is a 28-year-old happy-go-lucky guy who likes Roy Orbison, iCarly, has some great Kung Fu moves, and just happens to have Downe's. He's probably the closest thing I have to a little brother here in Maine, and I feel especially close to him. I'm sure he will one day be the recipient of many postcards from my travels across the United States. There are so many faces and voices I will miss, and maybe equally as many that I can do just fine without. The guys from the halfway houses were great, the guys who took up residence at the Y (86 of 'em on the top three floors) were a mess. The cocky lawyer sons-of-bitches, the spoiled-brat daddy's boys, and the sad-sack XL German lady - don't you people ever have anything nice to say in your life? You're at the Y; not the Palm Springs Country Club. The masses can be tough, and no doubt about it, the Portland YMCA Membership Desk was a rough job. Yeah, it was nice to have an audience eleven hours a day, but due to the nature of the short-staffed Saturday position, the job was easily unmanageable for one person for a good portion of the day. But I hung in there. 3 1/2 years. I sense there is a mentality somewhere up the food chain that people don't come to the YMCA on weekends, therefore they only needed to staff a couple people in the building. Like it was the freakin' 9-5 wholesale carpet business over in the Del Rio Office Park. It's the Y, for God's sake. Staff it like you're open for bidness. I don't blame Hildy, she was a shining star (and it never hurts to have someone in charge who you think is just plain hot). I don't blame Katie, or Bethany, or even Heidi-Anne before her. Here's my little rant, so I can get it out of my system for good: Many of the Y's policies were impossible to enforce, and most of the day was spent in "sheriff" mode - trying to keep people from lying and cheating and sneaking in the door. Forget customer service, and God help you if a new member wanted to sign up; the paperwork was absolutely ridiculous. To top it off, the weekend pay was equal to the desk on the other side of the building - the other staff person who just answered phones. That's right. They were told to bring a book or something, because it was so dead, they had nothing to do. I used to work that desk, but it was just too slow. Made me crazy sitting there doing nothing. So you get to choose: die a slow, painful death or have a nervous breakdown and take as many with you as you can. We all know you don't expect a lot of money working for a non-profit, but come on. The crazy Membership Desk should be making well more than the phone desk - flying solo on weekends - and that was an atrocity nobody upstairs ever wanted to address. (hey, instead of paying both people $9, pay one $8 and one $10. Somebody would still be getting $8/hour to read a book!) But that disparity was part of the job description, and that's what I agreed to, and that's what I accepted, and I'd do it again. Some goodness, some badness - that's life, and we all choose what we're going to take away from our experiences. I have a lot of good I'll take away from the Y. Not such a bad part-time job. I took pride in doing my warrior best, and I'll miss the Portland YMCA terribly. If you're ever in the Portland area, drop in and give them your support. And be kind to the desk staff. I hope my replacement is found this month. Got to move into the truck. * * * Great item of progress today, my first sunny day off work with no agenda since it turned cold, last November. I found my hacksaw and cut my music equipment rack the necessary inch to get it standing upright in the truck. Don't let anybody tell you rack rails cut with a hacksaw in less than a minute (and this is why I put it off so long). But I pulled myself together, got the pieces cut, and loaded the rack with my MIDI and sound gear.  It was a nice day, but I turned the block heater on for two hours in the morning just to be sure I had a good temperature in the engine before trying to start it. It hasn't been started at all in these past five months of Winter. Turned the key, one nanosecond later - varooom! I love my engine! I have total confidence here. Later, I took Monk out in the truck for more gradual immersion, and while I watched a two-hour movie, he hid, then snooped and sniffed, hid some more, and finally settled on the futon with me. It ain't Home Sweet Home yet, but we'll get there. Sold the Korg RK-100 remote keyboard controller yesterday for $460 - a nice jolt of cash - and also sold some Windsor stools for $63, a roll of floor cloth for $85, a picnic basket for $10 and a metal Navy recruiting sign for $20. Rollin' right along, right along, right along... * * * Here is a shot facing the front from the bed, MIDI music equipment rack on the left. It's really not as crowded inside as you would think. Next step inside is to put in the remaining floor storage for the area shown.  * * * Well, the dude I bought the Michigan property from agreed to buy it back. He believes - as does the Deford Township - the property is worth a whole lot more than the $1500 I paid for it, and I think he wants to go after a few more dollars. I say, good for you guys then. Go get it. As for me, I'll just take my money back, and you can get me out of that weird deed with the error. Who needs the hassle? Sorry Deford. It is likely we shall never meet. The refund check arrived today, I'll put it into savings, and the whole Michigan thing will have been a dream. In fact, after donating away the Guthrie property last year and then this little blip, I'm feeling a little gun-shy about wanting to buy more property. Something really crazy would have to present itself at this point (although I'd still like something in Virginia, and something near Reno, Nevada). It's been kind of a miserable, rainy, few weeks in Maine. The kind of weather I adore, although the rain is still very cold here in April. I may not mind it too much, but it doesn't do anything for buyers on Craigslist. So maybe things will brighten up and I'll unload a few large items soon. I continued with my $100 per month into some Series EE U.S. Savings Bonds, which will be fun-money in ten years. Not a lot, but while I have the income and part-time jobs, I wanted to stash away a couple thou in Savings Bonds. When I'm sixty, it'll be like finding money in my pants. If I choose to wear pants when I'm sixty. Two loves have I, like no man e'er, No compromise from either - One whips the ice from mountain top, One stokes the fire beneath her.  May 2011 What's The Poop? Work: It Works! My Fascination The Logo |